Girls Meet World
by DiaAndMarcy
Summary: Desperate to free themselves a bit from their nations' personifications, the powers that be press-gang two young women into babysitting the nations for them.
1. Prologue

There was a dull roar through the large circular room. Voices murmured, papers fluttered, chairs scooted across the tan carpet… it was funny how loud a group of quiet politicians could get.

The Secretary-General cleared his throat loudly, which proved to be a powerful signal. All inessential personal quickly stood and left the sound-proofed room. It was possibly the most effective response he'd gotten from the den of bureaucracy yet.

However, these were special circumstances. And the people seated around the curved desk were not the usual U.N. representatives.

"Ladies and gentlemen, rulers of the world, we've met here to deal with several matters that could not be dealt with, except in person." The Secretary-General glanced around the room, trying to appear as stern as possible. "I'm well aware of how invested some of you are in the matters we shall discuss at this summit, and I can understand your urgency. However, I believe we can all agree that there is a certain matter that takes precedence over the others." The Sec-Gen nodded towards the U.S. seat. "The chair recognizes the President of the United States."

"Thank you, Mr. Secretary." The charismatic man smiled, holding the attention of the room easily. "Looking around at the concerned faces in this room, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's just a little bit curious about our beloved nations' personifications." This kicked up a few mumbles and whispers. The president continued, "Now, I'm not saying that they can't offer real insight into the nation we each rule, or that their suggestions are completely useless…"

The President of the Republic of Italy began grumbling.

"…but I believe we can all agree that there are times we could benefit from their temporary absence."

"Or perhaps benefit from their abstinence," the President of France muttered, eliciting several snickers.

The President of the United States cleared his throat. "That being said, I propose an arrangement wherein a ruler may be temporarily freed from the responsibility of tending to their national personification."

"You mean to control them," The President of Russia stated bluntly.

"No," The U.S. President laughed lightly. "I doubt any of us would be truly capable of that."

Nervous murmurs rose around the room.

The U.S. President jumped back in. "What I mean to say is, we would be arranging matters so that they would conveniently want to leave when we wanted their absence."

"Manipulation, then." The Russian President was pulling not punches today. Not that he ever did.

The Secretary-General jumped in. "Thank you, Mr. President," he said, nodding towards the United States seat again. "The chair will now address any concerns about this new proposal."

There was a moment's pause. A hand raised.

"The chair recognizes the Prime Minister of Canada."

"We know so little about them," The Canadian PM announced. "Yes, we all have our various files on what our predecessors were able to gather about them, but for the most part, we know very little else about them. They clearly live their own lives and have their own personalities…"

"How does this affect us?" The Russian President asked.

"It will most certainly affect us if we begin trying to manipulate them," The Canadian PM replied a bit testily.

"Petition to begin further research on the nature of personified nations," The Secretary-General cut in, jumping ahead to the end of the conversation.

Nearly all the nations indicated their approval. They had to admit, they were all a bit curious.

"Passed. Mr. President of the United States, since this pertains heavily to your proposal, would you accept the task of establishing how this will be accomplished?"

"It would be my honor, Mr. Secretary."

"Fine then. Moving on…"

Every leader in the room leaned back in their chairs, suddenly much less interested in the topic.

Well, except for the U.S. President and his clean energy proposal…


	2. Chapter 1

_Diana_

"You're a hero, Dia."

"Shut up." I blushed and gently slugged my friend in the arm. " 'Sides, I thought this'd be fun. I'm already interning here in DC, so I figured why not drag you up here so you can get a boost with your research."

Marcy smiled sheepishly, shoving her hands deep into her jacket pockets. "Thanks for your help. Almost no one else will."

We were strolling down the Mall, two of the few walking around that dreary fall day. I was perfectly comfortable in my black leather jacket and worn black boots, despite the near-constant sprinkle of rain. My thick brown hair kept most of the dampness at bay. My red-haired friend, Marcy, was wrapped warmly in an old blue and gold letterman jacket that was the right amount of too big. Her converse slapped the pavement.

"Anyway," I continued, "my apartment was getting kinda lonely, so of course I kidnapped you up here." I finished with a grin, my brown eyes twinkling.

Marcy and I peacefully walked along. I started listing the local hotspots while she gazed a bit absently at the scenery. She'd lived in DC before, and I guessed she was probably drinking it back in. DC could get pretty busy and exciting, but she was like me in that we preferred the quieter, rainy days.

I stopped talking and joined her in the sight-seeing, then happened to glance across the street.

"Hey, look!" Excited, I grabbed Marcy's wrist and started eagerly dragging her across the street. We were half-running towards the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum, a huge grin plastered across my face.

"Dia, what—?"

"Look! They put one of the Apollo capsules outside! Or maybe it's a model. I bet it's a model."

We made it to the other side of the street, coming to a stop in front of a cone-like hunk of metal placed on top of a large block of cement several feet high.

"Look at how tiny it is!" I gushed, circling the display. "People actually fell from space in one of these things! Well, not this one exactly, but still…"

"Dia, what are you—"

I hosted myself up onto the concrete block. There was barely enough room to stand. "This is so cool."

"Diana, get off there."

"Take a picture!" I pulled my cell out of my jeans pocket and held it out, grinning.

"You really shouldn't be up—"

"I'll get down once you take the picture!"

"Oh my gosh." Marcy sighed and snatched the phone out of my hand. She opened the camera and started trying to fit me in the frame. She stepped back until she'd almost reached the curb, then stopped. "Alright, hold still."

I grinned and leaned casually against the model. Then something behind Marcy caught my eye.

A car went flying past us, barreling down the street. It barely missing a car coming the other way, which swerved right into a puddle. The car spun out, and started careening sideways…

Right for Marcy.

"NO!"

Before my mind even caught up, I'd launched myself off the pedestal and was throwing myself towards my friend.

"MOVE!"

My hands slammed into her. I shoved her back. Tires screeched. Marcy screamed.

I shut my eyes.

Something smashed into me.

xxxxx

 _Marcy_

I'd always been a bit oblivious.

So when Dia jumped from the pedestal screaming, I was more curious than anything else. She shoved me into the street, knocking me off my feet and into my senses. I noticed the hydroplaning car for the first time, gliding uncontrollably towards where I'd just been standing.

Where Dia was standing now.

I screamed and closed my eyes. This couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare. I heard the horrific sound of metal crunching and a low grunt.

Then, silence. I couldn't bring myself to look up.

"Whew, that was close. You alright?"

I opened my eyes to see a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy with the front of the car practically wrapped around him. He held Diana in his arms, who nodded, dumbfounded.

The boy laughed, "No need to say anything. A hero doesn't need any thanks!"

He let go of her and climbed over the car. In one fluid motion, he pulled the front seat door clean off. The driver was slumped over, not moving. The boy put two fingers against his neck, then smiled.

"Guy's fine, just knocked out." He turned to me, "What about you? You okay?"

I managed to stutter out a, "Yeah, I'm fine."

I started to realize just who had saved Dia and me.

I stood gingerly as the boy pulled out his phone and dialed 911.

"Hey!" Dia called, running to me, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, my dazed look turning into a smile. She hugged me, then stepped back and waited a moment before giving me a smirk.

"Are you gonna ask if I'm okay?"

"I know you're okay," I replied dismissively. "I know who saved you."

Diana got one of those looks. "Marcy…"

The boy hung up the phone and smiled at us, "Alright, there's an ambulance on their way-,"

"America?" I interrupted, "That's you right? As in, the United States of?"

There was an awkward silence.

Dia sighed, then whispered to me under her breath. "Marcy, you can't ask every blonde haired blue eyed boy we meet if they're 'America'."

"I can if they stop a car without being hurt!"

Before either of us could continue, the boy spoke up, "Actually, she's right. I am America." He flashed a bright smile.

I stared at him with wide eyes, a huge smile spreading across my face. I was stunned. Up until now, the idea of Personified Nations had really been just a theory. But now...

"Oooookaaaaaaayyyyy…" Diana's voice broke my train of thought. "You know what? Thanks for your help. But Marcy and I really need to get going…"

She grabbed my arm and began pulling me down the street.

"No! Dia, what are you doing?!" I grabbed at her arm, wrenching away from her.

She let go, pulling her hands back in surprise. "Marcy…!"

"No! I'm not going to give up when I'm this close! I've worked so hard—"

"Hey, maybe you guys should keep it down…" The blond teenager had jogged up to us, glancing around worriedly.

"Mind your own business!" Diana snapped turning on the boy.

"It is!" He insisted. "I need to talk to Marcy!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Why do you need-?!"

"W-Achoo!"

I sneezed.

We stood silently for a moment, being drenched by the steadily worsening rain.

"Uh," I said, rubbing my nose, "Can we finish fighting inside?"

"Well…" the boy glanced around again, putting his hand behind his head.

"There's a McDonald's right across the street from us," I hinted heavily.

Diana sighed heavily, resignation on her face. "She's right, we owe you one. The least we could do is buy you lunch."

It didn't take long for him to change his mind.

"Alright, you drive a hard bargain. McDonald's it is!" With that, he grabbed both our hands and dragged us to the restaurant.


	3. Chapter 2

**Dia here. This story will normally update every Sunday. Sorry this is late; I'm in the middle of moving!**

 **Carry on.**

 _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

 _Diana_

"Why'd I offer to pay?" I mumbled to myself behind a mountain of dollar-menu burgers.

I sighed, slumping a bit in the booth and slurping my drink.

 _He saved my life; it seemed appropriate._ I frowned as I thought. _But I didn't expect him to order half the restaurant._

Marcy sat beside me, scribbling eagerly into a leather-bound journal. "I tried to warn you..." she said distractedly.

"Look, it's done, ok?" I snapped, irritated by my sudden lack of finances. "We'll just eat ramen for the next week."

"Hey, what are you guys whispering about?" The young man asked loudly.

We sat up quickly.

"Nothing!" Marcy laughed unconvincingly.

I searched my brain for something. I leaned forward on the table and looked at the boy. "Umm... What... Did you say your name was?"

Marcy glared at me, mad that I didn't buy her 'America' theory.

"Oh!" The boy set down his food for the first time in five minutes. "Call me Alfred! Alfred F. Jones, at your service!" He grinned a movie star grin, ketchup all over his face. "That's my human name. Makes fitting in a little easier, ya know?"

The next second he was stuffing his face again.

Marcy was practically jumping up and down in excitement. "See?!" She whispered eagerly, grabbing my arm. "See, see, see, see, see!"

"Marcy," I whispered back. "You're researching a myth. It's a really cool idea, and not unheard of, as myths go. But it's just a myth! This guy's just playing along."

Marcy's face fell. "But he stopped the car! You saw it, he crushed the hood! How do you explain that?!"

"People survive freak accidents all the time. We were just really lucky."

Macy's face turned red. "And what about all my research, huh?" Marcy had given up trying to whisper. "All those hours I spent? You think I'm an idiot, don't you?!" She slammed her journal closed and stuffed it into the inside of her letterman jacket.

"No! Marcy..."

"Well maybe this idiot doesn't want to share an apartment with you! After all, probably don't want my 'idiot germs' rubbing off on you!"

"What? No, Marcy... Marcy what are you...?"

Marcy stood up quickly. "I'm going to the bathroom!" she growled, storming across the restaurant and slamming through the bathroom door.

"Marcy...!" I sighed, putting my face in my hands. "I'm sorry, she isn't normally like this..."

"Why don't you believe her?"

I looked up between my fingers. The young man's blue eyes questioned me innocently.

My eyes narrowed. "Because she's wrong?"

"But what if she's right?" Alfred grinned. "Then you'd look like an idiot, huh?" He burst out in obnoxious laughter.

I stared at him a long moment.

 _Who ARE you?_

I sat back in the booth, crossing my arms. "So... you said you needed to talk to Marcy? What's that about?"

"Oh, right!" Alfred stuffed his last burger down, back on task. He started talking before he was finished chewing. "Alright, so you know that research your friend Marcy is doing on Personified Nations and stuff?"

"Noooo, not at all." My eyes narrowed. "Wait, how do you—?"

"Yeah, well it caught the attention of national security, and they think she's gotten too close so now they want to wipe her memory."

I blinked. "Wat."

"See, I heard about it too, and I really wanted to meet her! I mean, the White House kids are cool and all, but hangin' out with regular people would be nice once in a while."

I stared at him. "Looook, I'm... Really bad at catching on to jokes and stuff. If you're expecting me to join in-"

"Shit."

Alfred jumped to his feet, staring out the window.

I froze. "I... Sorry?"

"They're already moving in. We need to go." He held out his hand to me.

I hesitated, glancing out to window.

Dark suits and sunglasses. Walking quickly towards the building.

A dull shock ran through me. "What the...What's going on?!"

"Less talking, more running."

I gasped as a thick arm wrapped around my waist and dead-lifted me up into the air. I'd never been skinny, so having someone effortlessly haul me over their shoulder took me by surprise.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

xxxxx

 _Marcy_

 _Dangit,_ I think to myself as I turn on the faucet, _this happens every time I start getting sick. I feel bad, then I get all wound up over dumb things_.

I gathered up the water in my hands and splashed my face. It's not like my clothes weren't already soaked anyway. I looked under the stalls to make sure I was alone and, seeing that I was, I turned and looked at my reflection.

"I can't blame her," I said to the red faced me, "I mean, it doesn't make rational sense. Beings that appear when a country does, and live until the country is dissolved— that's crazy. No sane person would believe in such a thing, so why would she?" I laughed at my reflection. "Whew, glad to talk that out." I clapped. "Okay, time to go back in there and ask Alfred every question under the sun!"

I grabbed a paper towel and dabbed my face dry.

 _I can't wait to talk to Alfred, but the sooner I can get a glass of milk and go to bed, the better._

That's what I was thinking when I walked out of the restrooms to see Alfred carrying Diana over his shoulder and several black suited men heading for them yelling things like "Stop right there!", "Put the girl down!", and "Dammit Alfred, not again!"

I didn't have any time to process this before an arm looped around my waist and yanked me up.

"So, I'll explain this later," Alfred said as he ran out the back door, now carrying both of us, "But right now we need to be not here."

xxxxx

 _Diana_

It took a quick jaunt around a block and ducking in and out of the National Archives, but Alfred finally came to a halt in a little nearby park, satisfied he'd lost the agents.

He set me and Marcy down in the grass next to a large tree, flopping down next to us with a grin. He wasn't even out of breath.

"Yeah, so, sorry about that. I love those guys, but sometimes they can be a real pain."

My mind was buzzing.

 _So, this guy has absurd strength and endurance. And he seems to know this security agency personally. And he knew these guys would be after Marcy._

 _And there are no tells. No averting eyes or nervous behavior…_

I started giggling. Alfred and Marcy looked at me in surprise.

 _How terrible would it be if she was right?_

I shook my head. "Is today even real?"

Alfred shrugged. "Seems pretty normal to me."

I gave him a look. "You kidnap people every day?"

"Nah, but the Secret Service usually following me for some reason..."

"Oh, great, it's the Secret Service..."

"Are we safe here?" Marcy broke in, glancing around the park. The rain had stopped, but we were still getting plenty wet from sitting on the ground. Marcy sneezed, shivering a bit. "Why are they after us, anyway?"

"They want to wipe your memory because of your research, apparently." I said with a matter-of-fact tone.

She looked at me with big eyes, then at Alfred. "Then... I was right. I was really right! You're really America personified!" She was beaming.

"You got me!" Alfred smiled, getting up. "But you're right, we should probably move. There's a metro station not too far from here..." He offered Marcy his hand and pulled her to her feet.

I stayed seated. "Then what?"

They looked at me.

I crossed my legs. "So we run. Then what? Maybe you can keep this up," I looked at Alfred, "but Marcy and I can't. Plus she's getting sick."

"You want them to erase my memory?!" Marcy cried.

"You want us to give up?!" Alfred demanded angrily. "No! A hero never gives up!" He swept Marcy off her feet and looked like he was about run again.

"No, Alfred..!" I jumped to my feet, holding up my hand. "I DON'T want to give up, but we need to think this through!"

"You should listen to the lady," a bemused voice said from a short distance away.

We all turned to see a single Suit with sunglasses and auburn hair, leaning against a nearby tree, arms crossed.

Alfred's over-eager expression immediately dropped, replaced with frustration. "No, Pete, GO AWAY!" His face looked so pained it was shocking.

"Can't do that," Pete said simply, straightening and brushing off his suit jacket. "You know the rules, Alfred." He shook his head. "You've got to stop doing this."

Alfred started backing away, still carrying Marcy. I backed away with him; I wasn't about to let him run off with her and without me.

"Come on," Alfred pleaded. "I really like these two! They're good kids, they won't tell anybody!"

Pete ignored him, starting to walk towards us. "You won't get far. The park's surrounded."

Alfred stopped backing away, looking heartbroken. His voice had gone surprisingly quiet. "Peter, come on, man. I'll... I'll do anything, just let them go."

"Anything?" Pete paused, running his hand through his short hair and chuckling. "Those girls made an impression, huh? Tell you what, I'll do everything I can to make sure they're taken good care of." He tilted down his sunglasses and looked Alfred in the eye. "Ok?"

There was a tightness in my chest. My hands were clenched into fists. This conversation sit right with me. I glanced at Alfred, and saw a fierceness in his sapphire eyes that I felt deep in my own gut.

He was about to make a break for it. And I was really looking forward to joining him.

"It's ok."

Marcy's soft voice pierced the tense silence. She smiled, setting her hand on Alfred's shoulder.

"We'll be ok, Alfred. You can put me down."

Alfred slowly let her legs down, then helped her catch her balance. She started rubbing at her eyes.

"It was nice meeting you." Her voice shook.

I felt something stab through me. This wasn't right. Maybe I wasn't on board completely with the whole crazy thing, but Marcy? Giving up?

It wasn't right.

Alfred stood still, numbly.

Tears stinging my eyes, I walked over and pulled Marcy into a bear hug. She hugged me back, nearly crushing my arm. Her hands shook.

A little ways away, I heard a voice quietly say "Alright, move in."

Footsteps backed away from us. Our hug released and Marcy and I looked up. Alfred stood a few feet away, his face blank.

"I'm sorry."

He turned and began walking away, storming past Pete and a few other nervous looking suits. I barely heard him growl a curse at Pete under his breath as he passed.

The suits politely came up to us and pointed us in the direction of the street, seeming a bit apologetic themselves.

I looked back at Alfred one last time.

"ALFRED!"

Everyone hesitated. Alfred paused his rampage, and glanced back.

I smiled and waved my arm. "THANKS FOR THE ADVENTURE."

His look of surprise was the last thing I saw before ducking into one of the dark cars.


	4. Chapter 3

_Marcy_

I tapped the metal table I was sitting at nervously.

Inside, I was freaking out. What was going to happen now? Diana and I had been separated once we arrived. I didn't even know where we were. I was alone in a small room. There was a door to my left and a chair across from me. Above hung a plain lamp.

Before I could have a full blown panic attack, the door opened. I looked up at the man who walked in and sat down in the empty chair. He had light sandy blonde hair and no unique facial features. He wore the same suit and sunglasses as everyone else in this place.

"Miss Wiles," he said calmly, "I'm Agent Donev. I'm here to make you an offer."

I allowed my curiosity to drown out my anxiety. "What kind of offer?" I asked quietly. I noticed the corner of his mouth twitch slightly.

"We need someone of your expertise, Miss Wiles," he said, pulling out a manila file. "We've run a full background check on you. Congratulations on the new little brother, by the way."

"Uh, um, thanks?" It was extremely off-putting to have him say that.

"We also have been looking into your research," he continued, seemingly oblivious to my discomfort. "It's amazing how much you were able to uncover about personified nations without us knowing. It begs the question; just how much could you learn if you had our support?"

I thought I knew where he was going, but I didn't speak up. He was gonna have to spell it out for me.

After a moment of silence he continued, "I'll get to the point. We want you to befriend and study the Personified Nations and report your findings back to us. You'd have to keep your research a secret from them. The nations will be under the impression that they are responsible for you and your friend, as you both are the only current civilians aware of their existence. You'd be sworn to secrecy and paid well."

Another moment of silence.

"What's the alternative?" I asked carefully.

"There isn't one."

 _Well, when you put it that way..._

"I accept," I said a bit quietly.

Agent Donev smiled, "Good to hear. There's still some paperwork to do, but after that, you'll be free to go."

He picked up the folder and left the room, presumably to go get the paperwork. For some reason, this didn't sit right with me.

 _I suppose it doesn't matter. I don't have a choice after all…_

xxxxx

 _Diana_

I pressed my forehead against the cool metallic table with a sigh.

I had been sitting in the same small room at the same small table for hours. Marcy and I had been separated once we had reached… wherever we were. Now we were separately awaiting our fates.

Although at this point, I was wondering why it was taking so long.

The door opened. I peeled my forehead off the table and sat up. Auburn hair and an unreadable expression stepped through the door, a file in his hand.

"Miss Diana Rogers," He read from the file darkly. "Only child of Caleb and Sara Rogers. Twenty-one years of age. Graduated a year early from Dallas Tech, cum laude. Currently interning in D.C. with Sterling Art. Place of residence—"

"I get it," I said dryly, crossing my arms and sitting back. "You're in charge."

Pete gave me a dirty look, then continued. "Decent credit score. No felonies. A couple speeding tickets, though…" He glanced up at me with a snide look. "Couldn't wait to get to the rodeo?"

I rolled my eyes.

Pete slapped the file down on the table. "Miss Rogers…"

"Yes, Pete?" I smiled pleasantly.

He gave me a dark look. "Miss Rogers, I don't think you understand how delicate your situation is."

I felt my stomach churn. I raised my chin a bit. "I don't believe I've done anything wrong," I said confidently. "So unless you're going to charge me with something, I think I'll be going."

I didn't move, though.

"That would be true," Pete said, "If this were about a crime." He put his hands on the table and leaned in. "But this is a matter of national security."

My eyes narrowed. "National security?"

"Yes, Miss Rogers," Pete straightened and began pacing the room. "You have seen something you shouldn't have."

"So just wipe my memory already," I said blandly.

Agent Pete looked at me in surprise. "You want to lose your memories?" He asked guardedly.

"If it means getting back to Marcy." I glared up at him unapologetically, my tone ice.

He studied me a moment, forming his opinion of me.

Sitting down in the chair opposite the table from me, He opened my file and began flipping through it. He settled on a page, then looked up at me.

"Miss Rogers, can you tell me exactly what it is you saw?"

"I saw a blond-haired, blue-eyes young man survive getting a car wrapped around him while he was saving my life."

"I see. Anything else?"

I set my elbows on the table and folded my hands in front of my mouth.

"The young man had unusually high strength and endurance. He also had a very high metabolism. He was familiar with the Secret Service and knew at least you by name. He also knew about your investigations into my friend Marcy's work, which was on superhuman creatures known as National Personifications. Oh, and incidentally," I smiled, "he called himself America."

Agent Pete closed my file. "I see."

My smile fell. I stared keenly at the agent. "So, are you gonna wipe my memory now?"

Pete smiled a bit slyly. "I don't think that will be necessary. Miss Rogers," Pete stood. "The Secret Service would like to request your help with something."

I didn't move, still hiding behind my folded hands. My eyes followed him though, questioning suspiciously.

"It seems that the young man whom you spoke of has taken a liking to you and your friend Marcy. As you have no doubt surmised, it is normally the duty of the Secret Service to keep an eye on him—"

"Alfred."

Pete hesitated. "…Yes. Alfred… is normally our problem. However he seems much more interested in keeping the two of you company than listening to anything we have to say, so the powers that be have proposed a… slightly unorthodox solution."

"Powers that be?" I asked, surprise creeping into my voice. "As in… the President?"

Pete smiled slightly. "You, Miss Rogers, would be basically acting as a surrogate agent, keeping tabs on Alfred and making sure he stays out of public knowledge."

My hands were still covering my mouth as I stared intently at the table.

"Oh, and there is one other thing…"

I looked at him with a raised an eyebrow.

"The 'powers that be' I referred to are not exclusive to our nation."

I squinted at him. "What?"

"You may be called upon to monitor multiple other nations as well, as their governments so require."

My eyes went wide. My hands fell as I shook my head. "No. No way. There's no way I could do that."

Pete smiled knowingly. "I understand it sounds overwhelming, but you'd have Marcy's help. And ours, the second you needed it."

"I… this is ridiculous!" I looked at Pete desperately. "I'm an art student from Texas! I… I'm not ready for this!"

"You're a very intelligent young lady who very quickly and efficiently made a living for herself. You've proven your skills of reason and observation, as well as resilience. Oh, and we do have your IQ scores…"

I blushed slightly, ducking my head.

"What about Marcy?" Pete questioned.

I hesitated.

"This would be the opportunity of a lifetime for her. Spending all her time with the very subject of her life's work?"

"You make it sound like she isn't eighteen," I said a bit darkly. I sighed, running my hand through my hair. "She would be allowed to keep her memories?"

"And she would be encouraged to continue her work."

I glanced at him, suspicious. "Would she be compensated?"

"Of course. As will you. This will be your job from now on, more or less."

I nodded slowly. "Just one last thing…"

"Yes?"

"How the hell am I supposed to keep an eye on multiple personified nations, when the entire Secret Service can't keep track of one?"

Pete chuckled. "Ah, that's the beauty of it. Alfred and the other nations will be under the impression that they're responsible for watching you." Pete smirked. "Alfred's price to pay for 'saving' you and Marcy."

"Clever," I said with a dark smile.

"Oh, and in our defense," Pete added, "Alfred is one of the most…chaotic of the national personifications."

I nodded, he memory of him effortlessly hauling around Marcy and me around still fresh in my mind.

"Can I talk it over with Marcy?"

Pete nodded, standing and heading for the door. "I'll go get her."

As he left, I thought of how Marcy would react to the idea. I could picture her face lighting up. I knew we had details to hash out, but in the end...

We were going to say yes.

xxxxx

 _Peter_

Peter Franklin had had a long day.

He pulled his briefcase from his locker and loosened his tie, very ready to get home and take a long hot shower. He nodded to his colleagues going on shift as he passed, heading for the entrance of the secure facility. A few nodded back, but most just stared in surprise.

He was one of the highest ranking Secret Service agents after all.

He finally got down to the lobby, and was making a beeline for the front doors, when a small gathering of agents off to the side caught his attention. He paused, then cleared his throat. The agents loitering about looked up, saw who he was, and immediately scattered to where they were supposed to be.

The small crowd dissipated, and Peter got a glimpse at what they had been watching.

There in the lobby, somehow stretched out over three chairs while still sitting up, was Alfred, passed out and drooling happily.

On either side of him were the two girls he'd been fighting for and whining about all day, out cold like him. Marcy was curled up next to him tightly, still wrapped in the large letterman jacket, her head resting on his chest. Diana was lounging like Alfred, leaning against him with a slightly satisfied look on her face. His arms were around them loosely, and they all looked perfectly comfortable.

Peter turned and headed for the front doors. As he stepped out into the cool night air, he couldn't help smiling to himself.

That was the most peaceful he'd ever seen Alfred.


	5. Chapter 4

_Diana_

The first thing I felt was sticky.

I moaned and rolled over in my bed, cursing my tendency to sweat every time I crawled under a blanket. My thick hair was slightly damp and there was a heavy layer of heat wrapped around me. With a growl I kicked off my sheets and found the problem.

I was still dressed in my street clothes, sweater, jeans and all. I even still had my tennis shoes on.

"What the heck?"

I grappled with my sweater a moment, barely managing to wrestle it over my head. I threw it across my room, catching my breath in my tank top. I likewise kicked off my pants and shoes and tried to cool down for a moment. My hand started slapping at my bedside table, searching for my phone. I finally found it and checked the time.

3:41pm

"Aw man, what the HECK."

I angrily kicked at the air, pulling myself up to a sitting position. I tried to comb my fingers through my hair and got absolutely nowhere. I glanced around for my hairbrush, but it was nowhere to be seen. Grumbling, I got up and shuffled across my small bedroom, then dug through the pile of my mostly clean clothes next to my dresser. I found a pair of loose basketball shorts and gratefully pulled them on. Then I glanced in the mirror.

"Oh, good heaven."

From the living room, I could hear the tv. I guessed Marcy had gotten up slightly more reasonable hour than me. I walked through my bedroom door.

"Hey, Marcy, have you seen my hairbr-"

Big blue eyes stared up at me inquisitively from an impossible lounging position on the couch. The massive 19 year old boy stuffed a handful of Doritos into his mouth.

"Hey, Dia! Glad you're finally up!"

I stood there, tank top and basketball shorts, rats nest for hair, smeared makeup, staring at America.

 _Oooh, it's gonna be a good day, I can tell._

xxxxx

 _Marcy_

Stupid popcorn, I thought to myself as I carried the bag to the living room, Stupid braces, stupid kernels, stupid-

My thoughts were cut off when I saw Diana standing in the doorway.

Stupid me.

I'd meant to write a note and stick it on her door, but Al wanted to watch something while we waited so I put on Stargate. Then, he'd asked for snacks and then, I kinda got caught up in one of my favorite movies ever. Oops.

I knew she must be thinking of a thousand and one things that didn't look right, the messy living room, her hair, makeup, and clothes, etc. I thought she looked fine but it's hard to convince people they look good when they've got it set in their mind they don't.

Alfred remained completely oblivious. His eyes lit up as he spoke, "Perfect, now I can finally tell you about the surprise!" He sat up, making room on the couch for the both of us.

Dia's face went from confused to surprised to exasperated. She held her hands up as if to say she'd given up caring about the situation; it was too soon after she'd woken up for her to care.

Once we were both seated, the rapidly growing curiosity in me took over.

"So," I blurted, "What's the surprise?"

A mischievous smile overcame him. "I'm kidnapping you two again!"

He stated it like it was a normal, fun thing to happen. I wasn't worried. Wherever he was taking us would probably be crazy awesome and super fun.

"Where are we going?"

Dia glared at me. "No! No. We're not going anywhere. Alfred," she turned on the country, "You can't just run around everywhere, dragging us along!"

"Why not?" He asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Her eyebrows rose. "Why not? Because we have to…!" She suddenly fell quiet, slapping her hand over her mouth. She glared at the floor, suddenly deep in thought.

There was a tense silence.

"You know what?" Diana growled, standing. "Fine. Go ahead. Do whatever." She stormed out of the room, slamming her bedroom door shut behind her.

I gave Alfred a weak smile, "Sorry, she's not normally like that. I guess yesterday's antics really drained her."

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked looking genuinely confused.

"No, no," I assured him, "Not at all. You just gotta understand all this is weird for me, and I've been begging for it to happen. This has to be the craziest thing ever for her."

Alfred looked a bit lost in thought. He snapped his fingers, his childish grin returning. "I have a great idea! Heroic even! If it works, Diana should be happy, and I can give you both the surprise!" He pointed at me, "But, you're gonna have'ta trust me."

I was practically bouncing off the couch, "No problem, what do I do?"

He took out his phone. "You do nothing, kidnappee," he said gleefully, "I'm gonna tell my brother I need his help kidnapping someone and then leave your address. Of course, he'll come to stop me like usual. He knows where the surprise is; he helped me pick it out, so once he realizes who Dia is, he'll know where to take her."

There were a thousand questions that I should've asked, namely about the "like usual" comment. Instead, as I followed him out the door, phone ringing, I asked, "Who's your brother?"

xxxxx

 _Diana_

My mind was buzzing so badly, I barely heard the apartment door close. I had my back to my bedroom door, my finger tangled into my hair. I sat there, trying to breathe past the wave of rage that had hit me.

Frustration. No control. And a burning suspicion in the back of my mind. They were all feeding my anger.

I stood and grabbed the nearest towel, leaving my bedroom for the bath. The living room was empty, and I wasn't surprised. It had been quiet for the last few minutes.

The hot water stung at first as it hit my skin. I grimaced, then smiled. The slight pain felt good. It was just enough to burn away my frustration.

I focused on the sensation of the water running down my back, letting my thoughts melt into a vague mumble, then evaporate away. Thinking about my situation frustrated me. So I let my reality dissolve, if just for a moment.

Once I finally felt clean, I stepped out of the shower and wrapped up in the towel, wiping away the last of my old makeup using what little amount of my reflection I could see in the mirror. Once that was gone, I started to feel like a human being again. I rung out my hair one last time, then opened do to door and headed for my room.

I'd made it two steps before the apartment door opened.

"Alfred, are you here-?"

A teenage boy with strawberry blond hair and—if my eyes weren't deceiving me-violet eyes stepped into my apartment. He froze at the sight of me.

I stared at him, dripping water and holding my towel up. "Really?"

The boy's face turned as red as his hoodie. He immediate covered his face with his hands and turned away. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" he said with a surprisingly quiet voice. "I'm so, so sorry!"

Without a word, I simply stormed into my room and slammed the door behind me.

 _I so called it._

xxxxx

Once I was finally decently dressed, I pulled on my favorite black leather jacket and felt completed. Making up my mind to be calm, I stepped out of my room.

The teenager was still in my living room, sitting politely on the couch. He looked up at my entrance, his face still a little red.

"You're still here, huh?" I asked, my tone disinterested. I walked over to my folding table covered in junk and began searching for my wallet.

"I'm so sorry about walking in on you! I never would have come in without knocking if I hadn't been worried Alfred was up to something, eh?"

I paused and glanced over my shoulder at the kid. "Alfred, huh?" I turned around and leaned gently against the table, staring at the teen warily. "What made you think he was here?"

"He called me and asked me to help him kidnap someone."

I nodded slowly. "Sounds about right." I crossed my arms and sighed. "And who are you?"

The kid straightened up a bit. "I'm Canada."

I closed my eyes and nodded my head. "Of course you are."

"I know where Alfred took your friend," Canada stated.

I looked at him.

He continued, "I can take you there, if you'd like."

"Oh I see," I mumbled, looking the kid in the eye. "So now it's your turn to kidnap me?"

"No! No, I mean, you don't have to go if you want. I just thought..."

"You know what? Just…!" The words caught in my throat. I put my face in my hands, exhaling a hot breath. I massaged my face a bit, then let them drop. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I'm not normally like this. I just..." I squeezed my eyes shut. "Everything's gone crazy."

"I'll bet," the kid said, a touch of dryness in his voice. "But we're not your enemies."

I looked up at him.

He smiled. "Promise."

"Thanks." I smiled back, then began looking for my wallet again. I unearthed it, picking it up, then hesitating. "Hey, what's your name?"

The kid gave a small sigh. He rolled his eyes. "It's Canada," he mumbled.

I smiled. "No, I mean your human name."

He started, staring at me a long moment. Then his cheeks flushed slightly. "Oh, eh, umm... It's Matthew." He rubbed the back of his head.

"Well then, thank you, Matthew."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Um, not to be... pushy... but maybe we should get going, eh? It's getting kind of late..."

I pulled my phone from my pocket, checked the time, and cursed under my breath. "Yeeeaaahhh, let's go."

We headed for the door. "Oh, by the way," I started, "sorry about the mess."

"It's fine." Matthew shrugged, stepping out the door behind me. "It's really not that bad compared to America's place. It can get pretty bad..."

"Oh, wow, I bet..."

xxxxx

"What is this place?"

Matthew had driven us in his surprisingly humble car up to Georgetown. The car had pulled into the underground parking garage an upscale condo complex, and now we were standing outside the front door. I stared up at the gorgeous building, bewildered.

"What are we doing here?" I asked incredulously. "Meeting someone?"

"You could say that."

We headed in through the glass doors. "Whoever they are," I mumbled, "they must be rich."

I caught Matthew smiling out of the corner of my eye. We walked right past the front desk, the clerk giving Matthew a small nod and Matthew returning the gesture. He walked straight for the elevator and I followed obediently. We both stepped in and, to my surprise, he hit the penthouse button.

"Penthouse, huh?" I began trying to comb through my hair with my fingers. "I guess I should have tried to actually dress nice today."

Canada tried to hide another smile.

A long silence followed, but it wasn't as awkward as it might have been. Canada seemed perfectly comfortable in silence, so I felt no obligation to make small talk, much to my relief.

 _I mean, how do you even make small talk with a country? "Hi there, how's your weather today? Snowing and sunny? I see..."_

However, as we neared the top floor, I felt a sense of urgency grow inside of me.

I suddenly turned to Canada and blurted out, "Ok, who are we meeting? I can't stand not knowing. Is there anything I should know about them? How should I act? Is there anything super inappropriate that I should avoid? Who are they!?"

Canada looked at me in surprise for a split second, then smiled and took my rapid-fire questions like a pro. "There's no need to worry. We're meeting England and France-"

"Oh my gosh!"

"-and nothing you do could possibly be worse than what they do to each other."

"England and France?" I stared at the blond teen. "Those...they're...wow." I looked at the elevator door. "And they live at this swanky place?"

"Oh, no, they don't live here."

I looked at Canada, confused. "Then why-"

The elevator rang, and the door slid open.


	6. Chapter 5

_Marcy_

If Alfred had any doubts of being the "babysitter" in our deal, they'd disappeared once he brought me to the penthouse. I wanted to run all through it, jump on every bed, climb inside cabinets, and flop onto the couch...

I swear I'm not five.

Instead, he sat me down in one of four chairs across from the elevator and told me to wait there. He disappeared around a corner, returning shortly with a bag of Doritos Roulette. We then proceeded to play rock, paper, scissors, loser eats a chip, until Canada arrived with Diana.

Two hours later and one bag down, the elevator dinged.

"Dia!" I shrieked excitedly, tackling her with a hug before the doors had opened all the way, "Thank goodness you're here! Save me from this torture!"

I didn't notice the boy next to her until he spoke, his tone confused, "Torture?"

I continued on my melodramatic rampage, "I've been here for hours but Alfred refused to let me explore until you got here! I've been dying inside."

Dia patted my head as I let her go. "Oh, you poor thing," she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

"Mattie!" Alfred said jovially, slapping the new boy on the back, "Thanks for your help, bro!"

Matthew smiled shyly, "Not a problem. Sorry it took me so long." He looked around, "Where are Pa-"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by Alfred's hand. "Don't give away who they're meeting! It's part of the surprise!"

"Is it England and France?" Diana asked, deadpan.

Al stared at her in shock, "How did you know?"

"Are you a wizard?" I asked with joking innocence.

"Must be," Matthew said dryly, so quiet I nearly missed it.

Alfred narrowed his eyes at his brother, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a loud 'Thump!'

Realization dawned on Matthew's face, "Oh, Al, you didn't."

Alfred smiled sheepishly, "I suppose we should start the tour in the main bedroom before they kill each other."

"Excuse me," I said loudly, "Why are we here and getting a tour?"

Al gave us an ear-to-ear smile. He pushed up his glasses with one hand as he spoke, making a grand sweeping motion with the other.

"Ladies, welcome to y'all's new place!"

I swear there were stars in his eyes.

Matthew put his head in his hands in shame.

It turns out Alfred had locked the two other nations in a walk-in closet over two hours ago. He hesitated in unlocking it when there was another thump, followed by a muffled voice.

"Unhand me you bloody nonce! Give me back my bloody fucking shirt! You can stick that bloody dress up your arse!"

...mingled with another. "Ah, but mi amour, you are the Mama, oui? And you would look tellement belle! If you won't wear the dress, you can't 'ave your stuffy British shirt back!"

Failing to hold back his laughter, Alfred finally released his prisoners. Two men fell out, one on top of the other. The one on bottom, short blonde hair, piercing green eyes, large eyebrows, and no shirt, was most likely England. That meant the man with shoulder length wavy hair, lavender eyes, and a shimmery form-fitting dress in hand was France. The latter smiled charmingly, as if he was unaware how extremely strange and embarrassing the situation was.

"Why, bonjour mademoiselles. You must be the lovely ladies that our dear Alfred 'as been talking about!"

I was speechless. Dia, however, had reached the end of her patience a long time ago.

"Dear heaven."

Her words seemed to snap the Brit out of his shock, who promptly socked France in the jaw, knocking him off. France whimpered and looked up at England as he stood.

"Mi amour, 'ow could you?"

"The same bloody way you could try to put me in a dress for two hours!" He stepped back into the closet to retrieve his shirt. "My humblest apologies for my appearance," his tone and attitude pulled a one-eighty, "I am the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland or England; but you may call me Arthur." He finished buttoning his shirt and gave us a bow.

France stood and waltzed over to Diana, who was closer to him than me, and said dramatically, "And I am the magnifique France, at your service, ma princesse." He kissed her hand softly.

"I, uh," Dia stuttered slightly, "I'm Diana."

He gave her a lovely smile, then moved to me. "And you, mi belle fluer?"

"Uhh..."

I suddenly forgot everything I've ever known. The coy look on his face showed he was thoroughly enjoying my flustered appearance.

"Oh, leave the poor girl alone, Francis," Arthur said, his annoyed tone snapping me back to reality. I felt as ridiculous as I looked.

"I'm Marcelette," I said finally. "What just happened?"

"Which are you referring to?" Dia said dryly. "The fact that England and France just fell out of our walk-in closet, or the fact that France is hitting on you?" Despite her humorless tone, there was a smile on her face.

I'd never been flirted with before. That thought ran through my head over and over for the remainder of the tour. He made my heart skip a beat. I was fairly certain I wasn't in love, but that didn't stop my cheeks from turning red every time we made eye contact. I couldn't even pay attention to the remainder of the tour. I'd have to get Dia to reshow me around later.

"You okay?" a very quiet voice asked, startling me. I didn't realize Canada had been standing so close to me. "Don't let Papa get to you," he continued, "He's like that with everyone."

A nervous giggle left me without my permission, "I've just never had anyone talk to me like that."

"That surprises me," Matthew said. Then he realized what he'd said. "I mean," he covered quickly, "You're pretty and I… thought… you'd had a boyfriend or two… in your life..."

Seeing someone else so easily flustered helped me calm down a little. "Nah, I've been pretty sheltered, I guess you could say."

"Matthieu!" Francis shrieked, interrupting our conversation. Seemed we were in the kitchen. "Did you put these 'orrible instant mac and cheese boxes in 'ere?!"

Matt put his hand behind his head and laughed nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about, Papa."

France freaking out over box mac and cheese so ferociously helped me calm down. I tried very hard to contain my laughter as Francis scolded his boy over the boxed stuff.

"Anyway," Alfred said loudly, stepping between his father and brother, "That concludes our tour." He turned to Diana and me, "What do y'all wanna do now?"

I shrugged, but Dia had been waiting for this moment.

"Clarify a few things," she said tightly, her face dead serious.

I glanced at her nervously, afraid her previous temper had returned for some reason.

She continued, "First, this is seriously Marcy's and my apartment now?"

"Yup!" Alfred , replied cheerfully.

Dia glanced around. "How do we pay for it?"

"Your government money, duh!"

"Alfred!" Arthur mumbled a rebuke.

Alfred ignored him. "You should already have your first pay check; have you two checked you're checking accounts?"

I opened my mouth to say no, but Dia beat me to it.

"We've been a bit busy," she said with a slightly sly look. "There are clothes and food here. From what?"

"Oh, Francis, Arthur, and Mattie have been helping me prepare this place all day!"

Diana's eyebrows knot together. "How did you get this place so fast?!"

"Dude, you would not BELIEVE my connections."

Dia nodded her head with a smile. "Of course..."

I finally managed to jump in. "Why is it so big?!"

Everyone looked at me blankly. I felt my cheeks heat, suddenly staring at the floor. "I-I mean, I... Thought I remembered... From the tour, there were, um, more than two bedrooms..." I stumbled. Literally the only thing I remembered from the tour. That, and that there were 5 bathrooms.

"Oh!" Alfred jumped right on the question. "That's like the best part!" He shouted with a huge smile. "I figured since we're s'posed to keep an eye on you two, that we could take turns living with you guys!"

"YOUR idea?" Arthur mumbled under his breath again.

"Now now, Mama..." Francis replied mischievously.

"Get your bloody hands away from me, you wanker!" Arthur retaliated. And thus continued their not-so-quiet argument.

I was bouncing up and down in excitement, feeling like I might burst from happiness. Then I glanced at Dia. The best word to describe her expression would probably be... Fear.

But then she suddenly growled under her breath and batted her hand. She restarted her interrogation. "How many people know about this arrangement?"

Alfred shrugged. "I dunno, prolly just you guys and the secret service. Oh, and all the countries, of course! They're all really looking forward to meeting-!"

"Closest grocery store?" Her voice was surprisingly harsh, managing to cut even Alfred off.

Alfred hesitated, his giant smile fading a bit. Even France England had stopped fighting to look at her. I was getting ready to pull her aside and demand why she was being so harsh.

Alfred continued, a bit more carefully. "A couple blocks away."

"Nearest metro station?"

"About four blocks. But you could probably just buy a-"

"Where are the apartment keys?"

"Um, on the dresser by the door..." He looked genuinely concerned at how mad Dia looked.

I stepped forward, reaching my hand towards her. "Dia..."

"Alright!" She stood in the middle of us all for a long mom rent, arms crossed and glaring at the floor. Then suddenly she loosened up, clapped her hands, and looked up, a bright smile plastered across her face. "Now that the adult stuff is out of the way, who wants to go out for supper?"

Alfred's cheerfulness rebounded just as quickly as Dia's had appeared. "Awesome! I know the coolest burger place...!"

The three other countries moaned.

Xxxxx

 **Sorry I didn't do this sooner. -Diana**

 **mi amour – my love**

 **oui? – yes**

 **tellement belle – so beautiful**

 **bonjour mademoiselles – hello ladies (polite)**

 **magnifique - magnificent**

 **ma princesse – my princess**

 **mi belle fluer – my beautiful flower**


	7. Chapter 6

_Diana_

Matthew and Marcy were exchanging amused smiles at Alfred's sulking as we pulled up to the restaurant, La Chaumiere. The nations had given us a moment to quickly pull on something half decent from the closet full of new clothes they had provided. I was surprised by the accuracy of the sizes, though less impressed with the half-rack of floral skirts I would never wear.

As we were leaving, Canada had managed to swipe the keys to Al's ridiculously large black jeep.

"Oh, buck up, Al," Arthur comforted from the passenger seat, "We couldn't very well go to some shoddy burger joint."

"But why'd you let France pick?"

"Better than letting Arthur 'imself pick." Francis teased. He chuckled, raising his arms in defense as England swatted him.

We climbed out of the car and France handed his son his keys back. Alfred looked up and read the sign, "La Shaw-me-air?"

"Ah! My 'eart!"

"Yeash, Al," Matthew said, wrinkling his nose, "Even I felt that."

Marcy snorted then immediately covered her mouth in embarrassment. That seemed to lighten the mood. Even I chuckled.

In all honesty, I had been hoping for a more casual evening, considering the hectic day. But as we stepped through the glass doors of the restaurant, a small part of me realized that we'd have a completely new lifestyle now. For all I knew, this WAS casual for the countries. And despite their near-constant squabbling up to this point, they had all seemed to settle down and put on a bit more of a sophisticated attitude as they entered the restaurant.

Well, almost.

"Hello, welcome to La Chaumiere," the lovely blonde hostess said perfectly.

"You could take some lessons from her," Matthew whispered, poking his brother.

"Don't make me beat you up in a nice restaurant," he replied.

Francis smiled charmingly, "Table for six, please."

The waitress smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, but unless you've made a reservation, it'll be a two hour wait until a table that large is ready.

England stepped forward to tell the girl to clear a table when Matthew grabbed his arm, pointing at France.

"Ah, apologies, 'ow could I be so thoughtless," he gave her a low bow, "I am Francis Bonnefoy, a delegate of France. I've been 'ere for the past few weeks on business matters and I am so terribly 'omesick."

The waitress put a hand to her cheek, a near inaudible whimper escaped her. "I'm sure you miss your family," she said, her voice a little more lilting than before.

He gave her a sad smile, "Unfortunately, no family waits for me there, unless you count the beautiful stars that shimmer over the countryside or the little café I so love to visit. It is very similar to this place. Perhaps, that is why I'm so drawn to it."

"Dang," I said under my breath with a smile.

Arthur scoffed.

"You know what?" her voice was filled with emotion as she spoke, "I believe we have a table you can use, Mr. Bonnefoy." She turned to her left and led us further into the restaurant.

"It wasn't very nice of you to lie to that poor girl," England scolded once the love struck waitress had left.

France looked incredibly hurt, "Why, Arthur, I would never lie to a beautiful young woman. I am Francis, a delegate of France, I've no family back 'ome, and I love the stars and cafés!"

England rolled his eyes in response and stared down at his menu.

"Do they serve burgers?" Alfred asked absent mindedly as he flipped through a menu of his own.

I flagged down the waitress and said entirely too sweetly, "Could we get a children's menu, please?" She nodded and left, returning shortly with a black and white paper menu and a pack of four crayons. "Thank you," I said, taking it and handing it across the table to Alfred with a pleasant smile.

"Thank you, Diana," he replied haughtily. He opened the crayons, grabbed the red, and circled the word hamburger, then flipped it over. He drew an "x" into the middle blank in a tic-tac-toe grid. "Marcy," he said with a bright smile, "best two outta three?"

Without hesitating, Marcy picked up a blue crayon. "You're on!"

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

The night wore on, delicious food (plus one hamburger) was eaten, and conversation somehow turned to embarrassing childhood stories.

"One time, I took my little Matthieu to the stables to see the horses," Francis mused. "And he spent the entire time trying to mimic their snort."

Matt blushed, "Papa."

"What? It's true."

"Aww," I laughed, "That's adorable."

Canada's blush increased.

"Mhm, I remember that," Arthur added, "He wanted to learn how to speak horse, if memory serves. But you couldn't do that one part. Spent the rest of the weekend attempting to figure it out."

"Let's not forget Alfred's attempts," France chuckled, "He thought he'd done it by just going "puh" very quickly."

"He was so proud of himself!" Arthur laughed, "That reminds me of the time Matthew had told him he was hungry, so Al decided to try and climb to the top of the fridge and toss cookies down to him. He fell off the counter and nearly broke his neck!"

At this point, I was trying extremely hard to keep my laughter to a decent decibel.

"Ah, or what about 'ow Amérique used to wet the bed and then blame it on mon petit Matthieu."

"Hey!" Alfred perked up at this, interrupting whatever he and Marcy had been talking about. "I did not wet the bed! Heroes never wet the bed."

France wagged a finger at him, "Lies. Canada 'imself told me of 'ow he took up for you because you were embarrassed."

Alfred looked genuinely hurt. "Bro," he said, "How could you? We pinkie promised."

Matt looked upset, but a glimmer of unbridled joy shone in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Alfie."

America's anger melted back to his normal ridiculous smile, "Aw, Mattie, you know I can't stay mad at you." He reached over my food to fist bump Mattie.

I cleared my throat.

"Dude, you alright?" Alfred asked with a smirk. "Sounds like you're catching somethin'."

"No," I replied pleasantly, "I'm just allergic to childishness."

Arthur snorted, then coughed into his hand to cover it up.

"Oh no!" Marcy suddenly spoke up, looking at me with a pouty face to rival France's. "I'm so sorry, Dia! I didn't know."

Alfred lost it. Boisterous laughter rang through the quiet restaurant, turning heads. Arthur and Francis practically tackled Alfred, trying to get him to quiet down.

I immediately covered my face with my hand, trying desperately to not to do the same.

"Excuse me," I said, standing and heading for the bathroom. I needed a moment to calm down. I stepped into the hall leading to the bathroom… and bumped into someone.

"Oh, excuse—" I cut off as recognition hit me. Particularly the short auburn hair. "Agent Peter?" I asked, carefully.

The tall secret service agent looked at me with terribly unconvincing surprise. "Diana! What a coincidence." He smiled.

I stared at him indignantly.

"Imagine meeting you here! How are you doing?"

I kept staring.

An awkward silence built.

"Are you going to keep this up?"

"Yeah, no..." Pete sighed.

"So, how are we doing?" I asked irritably, crossing my arms and shifting my weight to one hip.

Pete looked at me carefully for a second. "You're both doing fine." He glanced towards the dining room at the sound of Alfred's laughter. "And nothing's blown up yet, so that's a bonus…"

The corners of my mouth twitched upward. "He's really that bad?"

"You have no idea."

I chuckled. "Yes, well, the night's still young."

Peter nodded absently, still looking in the direction of the nations.

A burning suspicion poked up its ugly little head.

"Oh, and by the way, I know what you're doing." My voice was cold.

Peter looked at me, interested but unconcerned.

I glared at him. "You're using us as bait."

Peter's mouth twitched upward. "What are you talking about?" He asked in an amused tone.

I scowled. "We're not watching anyone," I growled. "We're a flame and they're moths. No need to watch each moth; you only have to watch the flame." My eyes narrowed. "So how about you cut the crap about us 'working with you,' and call and call this scheme what it is."

The agent smiled. "How about I put it this way: you're being paid an absurd amount of money to let these idiots drag you around wherever they want. If I were you," His smile fell, "I'd shut up and take the deal."

I fell silent.

He turned to walk away, then hesitated. "Oh, and just a fair warning," Peter gave me a furtive look. "I'd keep a close watch on Marcy and Alfred. It doesn't usually end well when he takes a liking to someone so fast."

I simply glared at him.

I watched him disappear from sight, then let out the breath I realized I was holding.

No suspicion any more. Just anger.

 _Marcy_

Alfred sat beside me when we climbed back into his car. We were in the middle of a very heated discussion on who exactly won our game of tic-tac-toe, and if being the first to cheat mattered.

Dia, probably tired of our bickering, asked loudly, "Francis, could you drop us off at my old place?"

"Waddaya mean?" Alfred interrupted, "What's wrong with the new place?"

Dia rolled her eyes, "We can't stay there, all of our stuff's at the old place."

"Well there's a lot of new stuff at the new place for y'all."

"I'd like to sleep in my bed, if you don't mind."

"Right, and make Marcy sleep on the couch another night when she could be in a bed of her own!"

"I'll have you know my couch is awesome and really comfy and Marcy told me she liked sleeping on it!"

They both suddenly turned to me.

"Uhh, I'm Switzerland."

"What?" America asked.

Right, personified nations. There was probably a Switzerland.

"Oh, er, I mean I'm staying out of this. I don't really care where we stay tonight."

Dia crossed her arms and raised her chin defiantly. "Fine, then we go to the old place."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Arthur. "America, perhaps it would be better if they stayed at their own place tonight. That way they could do a bit of packing tonight and be ready to get moved in tomorrow."

Alfred slumped back in his seat. "Fine. Do whatever, see if I care."

I took out my phone to check the time, 7:4-.

My phone was snatched away. I looked up at Alfred, who with one hand held a finger to his lips and with the other turned my phone's volume all the way down. He handed it back and pulled out his own, typing furiously. Mine vibrated, one new message. I gave him a final odd look before opening it up:

 ** _Diana's such a buzzkill._**

I glared at him and typed back:

 ** _That's rude! She's very stressed and going through stuff. She has a job to keep up and all of a sudden she's thrown into all this secret service stuff! That'd be hard for anyone. She's just trying to be responsible and you're making it really hard on her! :P D:_**

 ** _Jeeze, sorry. I didn't realize._**

I sighed; maybe I flew off the handle a bit early. I sent back:

 ** _It's fine. She really is normally so fun and awesome, just right now she's really wound up_** ** _._**

 ** _What if we unwound her?_**

 ** _What on earth could you possibly be thinking?_**

 ** _Big party, all the nations. Minus Russia (don't ask)_**

If I weren't trying very hard to be quiet and covert I would've squealed. As it was, I let out a small gasp. Reply:

 ** _YES PLS! WHEN? WHERE? WHO? AHHHH!_**

 ** _FRIDAY, TWO DAYS FROM NOW, 8PM! New place, duh. Everyone 'cept the Ruskie (again, don't ask)_**

 ** _I'm in! Invite literally everyone, I wanna meet them all. (Cept Russia, for whatever reason I'm not allowed to ask)_**

I was positively glowing with happiness. This was going to be so amazing! I started imagining what everyone would look and act like.

 _No_ , I told myself, _don't make up unrealistic ideas of what other countries are like. That'll end badly._

I noticed the car had stopped.

Thanks for the ride," Dia said, letting her seat down so I could climb out.

Shall we walk you in?" France asked.

"No!" We both answered at the same time; Dia probably because the apartment was a mess, and me because maybe I wasn't entirely over his flirting and the weird feeling it gave me. We waved as they drove off, then walked into the front lobby.

A few hours of speed-cleaning and packing followed, and while I was getting more and more excited, Dia was looking increasingly exhausted. She was washing and organizing her paint brushes from her small corner of an art studio when I spoke up.

"Hey, Dia? Maybe you should sleep."

She glanced at me and gave me a weak smile. "I look that awful, huh?"

"No, that's not—"

"I'll get ready for bed after I finish cleaning my studio." She started stacking various canvases—some blank and some half-finished—against the wall. "Heaven forbid France see any of this," she mumbled under her breath.

We took turns in the bathroom, and I sat down on her surprisingly comfortable, worn couch. I pulled out my leather notebook and began trying to get down everything I'd learned about the nations today, even though I knew it'd be impossible.

Hey Marcy?"

I glanced over at Dia, who was standing in the doorway of her room. There was a large black sketchbook under her arm, which probably meant she'd be staying up a bit longer to draw. She looked at me with concern.

"You… really did want to sleep here, right? I mean, I didn't make you, right?"

Of course not," I said with a smile, "I said I didn't care because I didn't care. I really don't mind sleeping on the couch for another night or two." Just to prove my words true, I sank back into the couch and pulled my blanket up to my nose.

Even though I couldn't see it, I knew Dia was smiling. "Alright then," she said gently. "Goodnight."

"Night!"

Her door closed, and I turned over in the old but loved blanket, looking forward to tomorrow.

Xxxxx

 **Again, sorry. – Diana**

 **mon petit – my little**


	8. Chapter 7

_Marcy_

"Please, please, please, please, PLEASE be careful with that!" Diana hovered behind Alfred, who was carrying a heavy box of fragile items from our old apartment.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it…"

The three of us were walking through the condo's lobby, carrying some of the last boxes. It was Friday afternoon now, and I was barely containing myself. Somehow Alfred and I had managed to keep the party from Diana so far, although I had definitely been pressing for us to move as quickly as possible.

We got in the elevator, and as the doors closed, I glanced over at Diana. Despite her protectiveness over the box, she'd actually been in a much better mood. A full night of rest and some introvert time had done her good. Once she was sure Alfred wasn't going to destroy the fragile items, she stepped back and smiled.

I smiled too, happy she was finally starting to settle in.

The elevator doors opened.

"Mes beauties! You did not tell me one of you was the artiste!"

Well, there went that.

Dia froze, her smile fading away. She suddenly jumped forward, setting down the box of towels she was carrying and reaching out to grab a canvas from France. She flew past him, trying to repack the cat back into the bag.

"I thought I said not to touch these boxes!" She snapped, sliding the canvas back in and closing the cardboard flaps. "It's rude to go through other people's stuff!"

"Oui, but Marcelette asked for the 'elp to unpack…"

"But not THESE boxes!"

"Ho!" Francis swooped in next to her, smiling charmingly. "Then you are the artiste, oui? Only the creator could be so terribly protective of 'er own work!"

Dia just quietly turned and walked towards the elevator. "I'm going to the car."

"Oh dear…" Arthur mused.

"What's wrong!?" Alfred blurted.

"Dia…" I reached my hand out towards her back.

"Yes! Ok?!" She suddenly turned around and glared at us all. Her eyes were red. "They're mine! I'm the sucky artist, ok? I'm the one making the crap that my aunt won't look at twice, even though I work my butt off for her!"

There was a heavy silence.

"Your… aunt?" Arthur ventured carefully.

"Oh!" I jumped in. "Diana is interning with her aunt, who's an art dealer, kind of. She works for a large hospital system and finds art that helps calm down the people in the hospital!"

"That's…" Dia objected, despite herself. "Fine, whatever. Close enough."

No one really saw him move, but suddenly Francis was beside Dia, arm around her shoulders. "Why are you so ashamed of that? That is manfique!" He smiled widely. "I 'ave long believed in the 'ealing power of art! What you do is trés bien!"

At first, Dia looked like she wanted to rip France's arm off. But as he kept talking, she slowly calmed.

"But," she said weakly, "my art is still crap."

"NON!" Francis rebuked with surprising strength. "Your art is simply not what your aunt is looking for! She is looking for the pieces pleasant to the eye, non? But your pieces tell stories!"

Dia looked thunderstruck. Her brown eyes went huge. "You… can tell?" She whispered hoarsely.

Francis drew her a bit closer, his smile devastatingly sly. "Ma chére, art is the language of my people. It is part of my soul…" he playfully flicked his finger under her chin, "And yours."

I had never seen Diana's face turn so red.

Despite his words, Francis was not allowed to touch any of the boxes containing Dia's art as we finished unpacking. Still, pieces kept on disappearing, only to be returned by Matthew when France wasn't looking.

"Woah, you guys have a karaoke machine?" Alfred gasped.

I laughed, "Yeah, I kinda stole it from my house. In my defense, I'm the only one who actually used it."

He gave me a sly look and pulled out his phone. I followed suit, turning down my volume. New message:

 ** _So, you got any vidja games and consols_**?

I rolled my eyes and replied:

 ** _That's not how you spell consol-E-s._**

 ** _Nobody likes a know it all :/_**

 ** _Lol we have a ps3 and all the Sly Cooper games, but that's it._**

 ** _Meet me at the car in 10_**

 ** _Unrestrained shopping spree?! :D_**

 ** _HECK YESSS_**

I looked up at Alfred, who nodded, then walked to the elevator.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked.

"To get more boxes of things, duh!"

England glared at him as the doors closed, daring him to be doing anything other than that.

A few minutes later, I headed to the elevator as well. I pressed the lobby button and attempted to not meet anyone's eyes, lest they somehow read my thoughts. Once I'd made it down without being noticed, I took off through the lobby and out the doors. Alfred pulled up and rolled down his passenger window.

"Get in, Loser, we're going shopping!"

I laughed as I climbed into the jeep. "Did you just make a Mean Girls reference?"

His eyes twinkled mischievously. "I dunno what you're talking about."

 **xxxxx**

 _Diana_

I'd fallen into a steady trance of organizing and unpacking, grateful that the penthouse had so much space. However, a part of me really didn't want to disturb the well-furnished, clean rooms, so I had taken to putting most of the boxes into closets and the like, a good number of them unopened.

"How about this one?" I asked Francis, who seemed to have a good idea of what space was where. I held a box full of unused blankets, wondering to myself how much of our things we would end up donating after all this work.

France smiled mischievously. "Well, the master bedroom closet 'as plenty of room…"

There was a loud humph from Arthur's direction.

I hid a smile. "Right." I was about to carry the box away, when Arthur spoke up.

"Where the hell is he?"

I blinked, then realized a good chuck of time had passed since Alfred had left. And so had…

Marcy.

Feeling a slight jolt of panic, I dropped the box and whipped out my phone. More than an hour had passed. Cursing under my breath, I hit her number and waited.

The phone rang a little too long, then Marcy finally picked up.

"Hey, Dia!" She sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

"Are you ok?" I asked, worry in my voice. That seemed to catch her attention.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm with Alfred. We, uh, went back to the apartment to…make sure nothing was left." She'd never been a good liar.

"Marcy," I threatened, "What are you up to?"

"Uh, sorry Dia, I can't hear you! We're going through a tunnel! We're being attacked by flying monkeys! Run, Forrest, run!" In the background, I could hear Alfred's laughter steadily becoming louder.

"What is goi-," I heard the beep. She'd hung up on me!

My phone buzzed, and I looked at the text I'd just received.

 ** _So srry it's for a good cause I'll be bak soon love you_**

I groaned, putting my head in my hand.

Across the room, Matthew was texting furiously. Finally, he sighed, put his phone away, and pulled Francis and Arthur aside. They started talking angrily in hushed tones.

I was vaguely aware of all this, trying to massage away the headache I was getting.

"Hey, Diana?" Matthew's kind voice broke the ring of whispers. "How aboot we go get some coffee?"

Smiling slightly at Canada's "aboot," I sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I could use some fresh air." I turned hand headed for the elevator.

The last thing I saw before the elevator doors closed was Arthur and Francis starting to hurriedly stash away the boxes.

 **xxxxx**

 _Marcy_

"Honey, I'm ho-ome!" Alfred called loudly, carrying two large boxes along with several bags of assorted snacks and games. If I'd had a hand free, I would've covered my ears. Arthur walked over to me and began relieving me of my bags.

"There's more still in the car," I said meekly.

"Bloody hell, Alfred, why'd you buy so much junk?"

I blushed slightly, "Er, actually that was me. I may've gone a little overboard."

"Nah, don't worry about it," Alfred said, "Anything left over, I'll eat!" He put down the boxes and walked into the kitchen, dropping the other bags. France, almost absentmindedly, began to rifle through them, setting up both kitchen and dining room for the party.

"Oh," he moaned, "These pre-made desserts are so-,"

"Can it, Francy-pants!" I said, copying one of the nicer names Arthur had called him, "I throw the party, I buy the food."

I heard England chuckle in approval as I turned away quickly. My little outburst drained most of my confidence and I was once again at the mercy of a flirtatious Francis. Before he could reply, I hurried to the tv to help Alfred with the set up.

"What can I do to help?" I asked, checking my phone for the time; 6:34. It wouldn't be long before guests started to arrive. As I thought this, the elevator dinged.

"Vat up, losers?" A German accent filled the penthouse. "Ze awesome me vill now grace you with my presence!"

Alfred let out a long, low groan. I turned to see red eyes staring back at me. On top of his silver-white hair, a small baby chick chirped.

He looked around, resting his eyes on Alfred and said, "America, zis party is so not awesome. Vhy am I here?"

"I was going ask you the same thing, Prussia," Arthur huffed, "The party isn't until 8."

Prussia shrugged, "Do you expect me to ride on ze same plane as Feliciano und my bruder? No thanks! Zat Italy says some veird shit in his sleep, especially vhen he's vith Ludwig."

Alfred continued to ignore him, trying to get the Xbox One set up. Prussia jumped over a couch and crouched beside Al, leaning on top of him. The little chick looked at me.

"Screw off, Gilbert!" America said with annoyance.

"Vhy?" Prussia snickered.

I snatched the bird off his head and held it close to my face. It stared at me, then nuzzled my nose with its head.

"Hey!" Gilbert shot up, looking more annoyed than Alfred, "Give me back Gilbird!"

America grinned wickedly and shook his head behind Prussia. I looked at him, then Prussia, then the bird, and smiled.

I held Gilbird aloft and cried out, "Gilbird, I hereby rename you Marcybird and claim you in the name of America!"

I then put the chick down on my head and bolted, Gilbert hot on my heels.

"Dude, America, control your bitch!"

He was too busy dying of laughter to pretend to scold me. I ran to Arthur and hid behind him, crouching in order to be completely hidden. England was trying hard to keep his composure.

"Gilbert," he said assertively.

Prussia perked up, hoping he was about to be handed Gilbird back.

"Apologize for calling your host a 'bitch'."

He dropped his jaw, "Are you serious?! She fucking took Gilbird from me!"

"What do you mean?" Francis cooed, "I see only Marcybird."

The poor guy looked like he was about to blow a fuse. I couldn't force myself to keep this up.

"Here," I said, taking Gilbird off my head and handing it to him over Arthur's shoulder as I stood, "Sorry, I thought it would be funny."

Prussia glared at me as he took the chick and placed him on his rightful place.

"Ahem?" Arthur muttered, still looking like a mother scolding her child. Gilbert growled an apology and walked off like a wounded dog.

"Wow, Marcy," Alfred complained, "You could've milked that for so much more! You _sure_ you're American and not Canadian?"

"How DARE you question my nationality!" I said in mock offense, "I'll have you know when I was five I could fire a rifle-,"

"Okay."

"-my first word was freedom-,"

"Better."

"-and I have a pet bald eagle named Clark Kent!"

Alfred laughed at this. "Alright, you pass the test. You're American."

"I'm fairly certain that is not how that works," Arthur pointed out dryly.

Alfred scoffed, then headed back into the living room to finish setting up the console. I followed, listening to Arthur and Francis as I walked away.

"For heaven sake, Francis, let me help."

"No! You would only set it on fire with your 'orrible English cooking,"

"It's just box biscuits!"

 **xxxxx**

 **Mes beauties – my beauties**

 **Oui - yes**

 **Manfique - magnificent**

 **trés bien – very good**

 **non - no**

 **Ma chére**

 **Und - and**

 **Bruder – brother**

 **Box biscuits- box cookies**


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey, guys. Diana here.**

 **Marcy asked me announce that if you have any questions (and the answers aren't spoilers), we'd be happy to answer them! Who knows, maybe she'll come out of her shell a bit and answer them herself. ;)**

 **Diana out.**

 **xxxxx**

 _Diana_

Matthew was kind enough to pass several coffee shops in order to reach my favorite. A small establishment, boasting a rather impressive selection of teas and coffees, which they didn't burn to death like Starbucks did. I ordered a chai latte, and also paid for Matt's hot chocolate plus a pump of maple flavoring.

I laughed to myself at how happy he was that there was maple. _Lucky you that it's fall_ , I thought to myself.

We sat down in a wooden booth and took a moment to admire the doodles on the wall. The entire restaurant's walls were covered in various sketches, notes, and a few truly remarkable drawings. The coffee shop encouraged it. The rustic place had a very relaxed and artsy feel, a sharp contrast to the bustling street just outside. It was quiet, and there was almost no one inside.

"Here," I said with a smile, picking up a small sharpie hiding behind the wire napkin holder. I handed it to Matthew. "Draw something."

Matthew looked shocked. "What? No! I…I couldn't…"

"Aww, come on." I teased. "Everyone does it. It's our own little mark on the world."

"No, thank you," Matthew looked apologetic, but even more unwilling to deface the wall.

"Fine," I said, still smiling. I took the sharpie back and popped off the lid. Then I searched the wall for some tiny spot that hadn't been filled already. Picking the inside of a largely scrawled "O," I started drawing a horrible excuse for a maple leaf.

"What are you doing?"

"Drawing a maple leaf!"

"That doesn't look anything like a maple leaf!" Matthew said with a hit of despair in his voice.

I giggled. "Then you finish it!"

Matthew hesitated, then determinedly took the sharpie, deciding it was for the greater good. He was still editing my doodle when the barista walked our drinks over to us.

"Thanks, Ed!" I chirped, taking a sip of the sweet milky chai goodness.

"No prob, Dia." He gave me a small nod, then walked away.

Matthew finished his work, and the result was a perfectly drawn, tiny maple leaf. I gave him a small round of applause. He blushed and took a drink of his hot chocolate.

"No, but seriously, that's really good…"

"Diana…"

I looked at Matthew and saw concern in his violet eyes.

"What wrong?" I asked, all humor leaving my voice.

"Well, nothing's really wrong…" He stared down at the table and took another sip. "It's just…" He sighed. "You know, Alfred's really excited about getting to hang out with you two. It's been a while since he's gotten to hang out with… civilians."

I frowned slightly, worried about where Matthew might be going with this.

"It's actually pretty unusual," Matthew continued. "Nations don't usually befriend their citizens, and if they do, it's only like once or twice every few centuries." He smiled slightly, looking up through his strawberry blond hair. "Now, of course Alfred would be the exception. He wants to befriend everyone he bumps into on the street. But of course he can't. Discretion and all." Matt's face grew serious. "So this is really special for him. And he's doing everything he can to make you guys happy."

I leaned forward, folding my hands in front of my mouth. Part of me really wanted to take an hour and process this new information, but Matthew was still getting at something, and that needed to be addressed.

"Is this your way of telling me to try and get along with him better?" I asked a bit dryly.

"Well… that, and try not to be too mad at him."

"Mad at him?" I looked at Matthew, confused. "I'm not mad at him, really. I just wish he and Marcy would try and be a little more responsible."

"Yes, well… you aren't mad at him now…"

My hands dropped to the table. "What did he do?"

"I'm not really at liberty to give away their surprise," Matthew looked down at his cocoa, "Just know that he's trying really hard to make sure everyone's happy in his own way."

I stared at him, eyes narrowed, waiting for him to look up. "Is that why Marcy hung up on me? Cause they're planning something?"

He nodded and took another drink, expertly avoiding my gaze. This probably wasn't the first time he'd covered for his brother.

"Have I been kidnapped?"

"I'm allowed to bring you back at 8:30 or when Al texts me," was his response.

I sighed and put my head in my hand, running my fingers through my hair. Then I smiled at looked up.

"You're a good brother, Matthew."

Matt blushed. "Thanks, I try."

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. I took a long sip of my latte. "Alright, then." I sat back and crossed my arms. "I guess we wait."

And wait we did.

 **xxxxx**

Alfred sent the text a few minutes before 8:30, so we headed back over to the new apartment.

Despite the air of confidence I was working to maintain, the closer we got the more my stomach turned. As we walked through the lobby, I quickly closed my eyes and let out a slow breath.

 _Whatever the surprise is, Marcy is safe. The surprise was in our apartment and out of the public eye. And no matter how mischievous he is…_ I looked up. _I'm pretty sure Alfred isn't a bad person._

I felt myself relax as the elevator began to rise. I glanced over at Matthew. "I like your kidnappings better." I gave him a sly smile.

He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm definitely more hospitable."

"Do you do this often?"

"Me? No. But Alfred has a tradition of kidnaping his newly elected presidents."

 _That explains a few things._

Ding. The doors parted to show Alfred standing inches from the opening.

"Surprise!" he cried. He moved out of my way to reveal the penthouse, full of people.

"Who are they?" I asked, looking around with wide eyes.

"They're the other nations! Well, all that could make it, anyway." He smiled brightly, "I thought you might like a night to relax and what better way to do that than at a party?!"

I gave him a skeptical look.

Off to the left, France stood with two other men by the food, one tan with dark hair and the other a near sickly pale with white hair and, for whatever reason, a little yellow bird on his head. Near the end of the table was a very tall stoic blonde man talking with much shorter, equally calm, dark-haired Asian. Bouncing around them and joining into the conversation every few minutes was a happy auburn haired young man. England sat at one of the chairs directly across from the elevator, having a polite conversation with an Asian man with long dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail and a tall handsome man with windswept dark brown hair and glasses. To their right were four girls talking and giggling like highschoolers. Two of them had green eyes, one with pale-brown shoulder length hair and the other with much longer brown hair. The third girl was Asian and had long curly dark hair, and the forth girl was a little taller than the others with short silvery hair and a very full figure. Standing in the curtains was an Asian boy, staring at the cluster of girls.

The last group was around the tv playing videogames. Marcy sat on the floor, cross legged and focused. On the couch above her were two young men, one who looked like the auburn haired boy, but tanner, his hair darker. The other was Asian with dark red hair longer in front than in back. Both were elbowing and shoving each other as they played. In a chair beside them was a young man with blonde hair an inch or two from his shoulders and a very neutral expression. Leaning over his chair with her arms crossed on top of his head was a young girl with identical features and hairstyle, save the purple ribbon in her hair.

"So, what'cha think?!" Alfred was practically bouncing up at down.

I looked around the room carefully, taking in everything I could. "They're all countries?" I asked, a bit quietly.

"Yeah, dude! Come on, I'll introduce ya!"

A massive mitt of a hand wrapped around my wrist, and the next thing I knew I was half-running across the apartment.

"Hey Germany!" Alfred's voice stabbed through the dull roar of the room. "There's someone else I want'cha to meet!"

I found myself stumbling to a stop in front of the impressive, stoic blond man. His piercing light blue eyes studied me a moment, and I suddenly felt very small.

Nevertheless, he introduced himself politely, albeit strongly. "Hello. I am Ludwig Beilschmidt. It is an honor to meet you." He gave me a small bow.

Before I could react, the smaller, auburn-haired young man that had been hovering nearby came skipping up. "Ve~? What is it, Germany? Oh, you're cute too!" He leaned towards me, a huge smile lighting up his face as his arms flailed at his sides. "Ciao, I'm Italy! But you probably figured that out already. You look smart, like Germany!"

"Zat's enough, Italia," the German said, a bit stiffly.

I glanced at Alfred, raising my eyebrow slightly. He rolled his eyes with a "you have no idea" look.

Italy continued chattering next to Germany, but their conversation moved away from us, and the short Asian man approached.

"Kon'nichiwa," he said in a calm voice, bowing deeply. "I am Japan. And I am arso honored to meet you."

"Arigatō," I replied happily. I returned the deep bow, much to the surprise both America and Japan. "But it is my honor to meet you." I smiled widely.

Japan stammered, flustered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized with a sheepish smile. "It's just… I'm a bit of a fan. Of your anime, at least." I felt my cheeks warm.

"Oh. I see." Japan had regained his composure.

A long, awkward silence fell.

"OK THEN!" Alfred decimated the quiet, grabbing my shoulders and steering me away. "You've still got lots of people to meet!"

Thus proceeded the night.

 **Xxxxx**

 **Kon'nichiwa- hello**

 **Arigatō- thank you**


	10. Chapter 9

**_Sorry it's late. -D_**

 **xxxxx**

 _Marcy_

Game over, you lose.

This popped up on my screen along with Lovino's and Li Xaio's. They were busy fighting over which one of them cheated.

"You guys," I said, "Nobody cheated. And we're on the same team! 'Cept Basch."

I looked up at the victor and for a spilt second I thought I saw a flicker of a smile.

"Did you win, big brother?" The girl, Liechtenstein, or Tutsia said softly. Switzerland nodded.

Tutsia smiled and said, "I'm glad."

I was so absorbed into how adorable she was that the sound of my own name startled me.

"Marcy!" I turned to see Prussia standing over me, "Vhere. Is. Gilbird?!"

I blinked. "I'm sorry, Prussia. I haven't seen him."

"Liar!" he yelled, bringing his hand down to grab me. I rolled to the side and stood, only to be shoved into the wall. "Vhere'd you fucking hide him?"

Behind him I could see Alfred, Dia, and Ludwig walking towards us.

"Gilbert I swear I don't know where he is, but I'd love to help you f-,"

"Do you expect me to trust you?"

"I haven't given you a reason no-,"

"You took him Vhen ve first got here!"

"But I gave him back!" I screamed back at him finally, "I gave him back because you weren't having fun! For me, messing with someone isn't fun when they get hurt!"

The room was still. Prussia dropped his hands and looked at his shoes. "You sound like a child," he said quietly.

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Sometimes, that's a good thing." Another deep breath and my smile was back. I slipped out of between him and the wall.

"Hey," I said, poking him in the shoulder.

He glared back.

"We gotta go find Gilbird!" I beamed. "Where'd you last see him?"

Gilbert looked like he was debating answering me or strangling me. "I vas vith Francis und Antonio," he finally said.

"Then let's start there."

As I walked by her, Dia stopped me. "Are you okay?" she asked in a hushed tone.

To be honest, I was a bit shaken, but not hurt. So I forced all the confidence I could into one smile and said, "You bet. And I'll be even better once we find Gilbird!" I continued walking to France, who smiled charmingly at me.

"Marcelette! I'm so sorry about Gilbert. 'E 'as a bit of a temper, no?"

"Gilbird is missing," I stated dryly, careful to keep my eyes trained on the floor and not France, "If you guys were half-decent friends, you'd help us look for him."

"¿Gilbird?" Antonio pondered, "Ah, si, I saw him!"

"Where?" Prussia and I said in unison.

Spain turned and gestured at the cupcakes, one in particular had been brutally murdered by a fluffy yellow ball of icing.

"Gilbird!" Prussia squealed, not at all like a fourteen year old girl. He picked him up and brought him close to his face, getting yellow icing on his nose.

"Uh, Gilbert," I said, holding out my hands, "Gilbird's kinda dirty. May I give him a bath?"

Prussia stared at me with a hesitant look on his face. Slowly, he handed me his precious pet and followed me closely to the kitchen sink. With one hand I held Gilbird and with the other I turned on the hot water and waited for it to heat up. After a second, I turned on the cold. I looked up at Gilbert. He was watching my every move like a hawk.

"Do you wanna check if the water's good?" I offered. He relaxed a little as he put his hand under the water, turning the cold up a bit more.

"Zere," he said, nodding in approval. I grabbed the sprayer and tested the pressure on my wrist; not very hard at all. Satisfied, I began to rinse off the baby chick.

"I'm uh," Prussia hesitated, then cleared his throat, "Vell, vhat I mean is, zat vas a little unawesome of me to fly off ze handle like zat."

"Not at all," I replied without looking up. "You were just worried about lil Gilbird here."

I could practically feel him staring at me. Then, he laughed. "Man, you're almost as bad as Matt." He looked down at the now soap covered bird, "But Gilbird seems to think you're awesome and vhat Gilbird says goes!"

I chuckled, "Who would dare to question the awesomeness that is the Great and Mighty Gilbird?"

"Nobody zat enjoys breathing!"

We both laughed as I finished rinsing and drying the "Great and Mighty Gilbird."

"There you are," I said brightly, "One very clean, very fluffy, very awesome Gilbird."

"Thanks!" Prussia quickly placed the chick on his head and took up a dramatic pose. "Now, let's go kick some ass in Halo!"

 **xxxxx**

 _Diana_

Once I was sure Marcy was fine and murder wasn't about to take place in the kitchen, I relaxed a bit. This party was doing next to nothing to calm me.

"He better not touch her again," I growled under my breath.

"If he does, you can use my frying pan." Sharp green eyes and a confident smile appeared next to me. "You know, to hit him in the head with?"

I glanced over at the young woman beside me. A mischievous grin crossed my face.

"Well, I wouldn't want to hurt him too badly," I bragged.

The young woman laughed. "Oh, don't worry. Countries can take a lot more damage than humans. You can hit him as hard as you want!"

"Really?" I asked, very interested.

The smiled woman stuck out her hand. "I am Hungary!"

"Diana." I took her hand and shook. Her strong grip matched my own.

"I think we will be good friends, Diana," Hungary said with complete confidence. "Now then. I suppose I should warn you what countries to look out for!"

She grabbed my shoulders and turned back towards the kitchen before I could say anything.

"See over there is France, Spain, and Prussia. They are idiots and douches, so never be afraid to punch any one of them." She turned me towards the couch. "The child is Hong Kong. He's a bit of a stinker, but pretty harmless. Romano on the other hand…" she pointed to the Italian that was grumbling under his breath. "He's a lot of bark, but he has also been known to bite on occasion. Literally." She looked me in the eye. "Never mention Spain to him unless you want an earful."

She kept turning me about the room, filling me in on little things that I hadn't found out during the brief introduction Alfred had allowed me.

"… never, EVER let England cook, never ask China how old he is, and always let Austria play your piano, no matter what time it is. Trust me, it's worth it." She smiled pleasantly.

"Wow," I managed to get out, head spinning from the onslaught of information. To my surprise, I felt myself calming a bit. The room wasn't full of complete strangers anymore.

I smiled at Hungary. "Thanks, I owe you one."

She laughed heartily. "Be careful! I might take you up on that when you become famous!" She teased. She then noticed the other three girls waving her over, and left to join them.

"It was nice meeting you, Diana!"

"Same." I gave a small wave.

Obnoxious laughter roared behind me. "HAHAHA, I should have know you'd get along with Hungary!" Alfred put his hand on my shoulder again. "Two kick-ass girls, am I right?"

 _Now how am I supposed to respond to that?_

"Yeah," I said, unconvincingly. "Totally."

"Dude, you know what? I bet you're awesome at Halo!"

"Um… actually I—"

"Come on! You want to be on the Hero team!"

And once again I was being dragged away by Alfred.

 **xxxxx**

"Did you finally find someone unawesome enough to be on your loser squad?" Prussia teased as Al came to a halt in front of the tv.

"Uh, we're the Heroes, dude, and we're totally gonna kick your asses!"

I sat down and accepted my fate as the final member of Alfred's team. While America and Prussia argued over just who was gonna kick who's lame-ass, Marcy and Germany were setting up the game.

"Okay," Ludwig said, his voice demanding the attention of the two bickering nations, "Ve've set it to low gravity, jetpacks, unlimited ammo, gravity hammers, sniper rifles, banshees, ghosts, und rocket launchers. You take minus one point for suicide and add an extra point for kill streaks. First to 1000 vins the game. Any questions?"

Prussia raised his hand, "How much money do I vin vhen I destroy you, West?"

Ludwig ignored his brother's question.

"Um, how do I play?" Liechtenstein asked. She sat between Marcy and Switzerland on the armrest of the latter's chair.

"I'll show you," Marcy answered sweetly.

Germany nodded, "If zere are no further questions or comments then the game shall commence." The people and nations in front of the tv sat quietly.

"On three-,"

"Three!" Prussia yelled, starting the game.

Germany sighed and moved to sit down when France ran up.

"Oh, Ludwig! It's the most terrible, 'orrible thing! We can't find Feliciano anywhere!"

Germany sighed, "Are you sure he's not in the bathtub again?"

"We've checked everywhere on the floor!" he continued overdramatically.

The game had started, but Ludwig's character stood still. He stood and followed Francis to the elevator, asking him when the last time he'd seen Feli was. Antonio was nowhere to be seen.

"Too bad, loser squad! Looks like this'll be an easy vi-,"

First kill bonus goes to me, for not putting up with Prussia's bull.

Behind me, I heard Marcy trying to restrain her laughter. "Oh, it's on now!"

The game continued this way for ten minutes. Prussia would get a kill or two, only to be sniped by Switzerland or blown up by Alfred.

"Tutsia," Marcy said, holding her own remote towards the girl, "If you have the gravity hammer out, all you gotta do is press this button over and over."

"FUCK YEAH, I'M IN THE BANSHEE!" Gilbert screamed.

I wondered if the rest of the building, heck the rest of D.C. heard that. He was in the air for about three seconds, when it was suddenly blown to bits.

"Watch your tongue," Basch said. He'd stepped out of his sniper nook to pick up that rocket launcher, and it cost his avatar its life.

"Oh! I killed Switzerland!" Marcy yelled, "That's the highlight of my skill, gonna go back to barely surviving now."

I rolled my eyes and looked for the opposite team.

"Haha, found West's spawn!" Germany's screen exploded in flames.

"Gilbert," Marcy said, "That's cheating."

"Cheating is having Switzerland on your team."

And, bam. Prussia blew up, courtesy of yours truly.

"Oh, I died," Liechtenstein said glumly.

Switzerland once again left his sniper spot and stood in the middle of the field.

"Aw yeah," Prussia said, killing Basch, "Grav ham to the face!"

"Dude?!" Alfred yelled at Switzerland, "What the heck, man?"

"Don't kill my sister."

Tutsia smiled with a hum.

Al jumped into a ghost and began running over Gilbert and Marcy.

"Hey, America," Prussia teased, "You do know what you're in right now, right? A ghost!" As he said the word ghost, he fell from a ledge and gravity hammered him to death.

"Dia! Don't let him get that ghost!"

My character spun around. Gilbert was already in the thing, turning and heading right for me. I jumped into the air, holding down the jetpack button, and flung myself forward to meet him. A perfectly timed swing of my hammer and the damaged ghost blew up, killing us both.

"Sorry about zat," Germany said stiffly, "It took us avhile, but ve eventually found Feliciano locked in the master bedroom closet."

I snorted, then looked around, happy to note that France hadn't returned with Ludwig and Italy.

"So, what's the score?"

"It's 872 to 891," Marcy reported, "We're winning!"

"Heck yeah, we're winning!" Prussia cried, his language remaining tame after many instant deaths at the hands of Basch.

Germany looked angry. No doubt, Prussia had France and probably Spain kidnap Feli in order to cripple our team.

"What's this?" Tutsia asked, walking up to a banshee.

"That's a banshee. If you climb in it, you can fly and shoot the other team."

Tutsia climbed into the banshee.

"Make sure to not crash or fly out of the map!"

Alfred and Marcy were having a battle of hammers, it seemed. I aimed my rocket launcher, and bam!

"Thanks, Dia!" Alfred said.

"No prob."

Welp, looked like friendly fire wasn't on.

Switzerland died again.

"Guys, I think I finally found his hiding spot," Matthew said quietly. I hadn't realized he was playing.

Suddenly, game over flashed across the screen. "What?!" Prussia screamed, jumping up from his seat. The leaderboard popped up. Our team won.

Alfred and I jumped up too, cheering and high fiving. He turned to Prussia, laughing his head off, "Oh, yeah! In your stupid face, Gilbert!"

"No fair, West totally cheated! There's no way he could get, like a hundred kills that fast!"

Sure enough, Ludwig was just below Prussia on the leader board with 123 kills.

"I believe kidnapping Italia is cheating," Germany responded dryly.

"Yeah, man, you can't just take Ludwig's pet Italy and expect to get away with that!" Alfred yelled.

"Did I win?" Tutsia asked.

Marcy shook her head, "No, sorry. It's my fault."

Tutsia looked at Switzerland, "Does that mean you won, big brother?"

He nodded.

She smiled. "I'm glad."

Oh, if cute could kill.

After that, the remaining nations started leaving, complementing the party as they left. Every compliment made Alfred smile wider, and by the time it was England's turn to leave, he was practically sparkling.

"Now remember," Arthur said as he waited for the elevator. "Let the poor girls sleep. They've had a full day."

"Yeah, a full day of awesomeness!" Alfred cheered. He looked back at us.

Marcy, sitting on the couch, gave him a thumbs up and a big smile. I had started picking up trash and didn't acknowledge him. If I'd looked up, I would have seen his smile fade a bit.

Arthur gave his goodbye, then left. There was silence.

I slowly looked up, hands full of trash. Marcy and Alfred were staring at me.

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

They shared a look, then smirked.

"You heard Arthur!" Alfred said cheerfully, walking towards me. "You guys need to sleep!"

Marcy yawned, "I'm tired and tired makes me lazy, Dia. Let's pick up tomorrow, okay?"

"C'mon," Alfred said, reaching towards me.

I was ready this time, but only managed to get a single step backwards before he yanked me off my feet and hoisted me over his shoulder.

"Alfred!" I growled. "Put me down!"

"Fine, but only if you promise you're not gonna clean and go to bed."

I kicked angrily at air for a second, then gave up with a sigh. "Fine," I mumbled. I felt like a child with an annoying babysitter.

As soon as he put me down I stormed into my room and slammed the door. I took a deep breath. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I looked at the incredibly comfortable king size bed in front of me. I was about to flop onto the bed when I heard a thump coming from the closet.

Déjà vu.

I opened the door to reveal France and Spain, bound and gagged, with my clothes, in my closet. Germany must have left them in there after finding Italy. I would have expected him to let them out before leaving. I walked over to Francis and undid his gag.

"Please be gentle," France cooed innocently. I glared at him, then rebound the gag.

"Alfred!" I yelled, "Your dad and friend are tied up on my closet and I don't have the patience to deal with them!"

Al, came barreling in the room. He burst out laughing when he saw the two.

I stifled a chuckle myself. This was a pretty ridiculous scene.

Alfred took a picture, then untied the two of them and walked them out of my room.

I closed my door with both hands, very happy to shut out the world. I let out a slow breath, and felt an attractive tiredness come over me. The feeling of having worked all day and having earned the rest you were about to get. I collapsed onto the wonderful king bed, barely managing to kick off my shoes before drifting off. Right before I passed out, I had one last thought.

 _Did World War II just happen in my apartment?_

 **xxxxx**

Epilogue

 _Diana_

It was the break of dawn, and a certain blue-eyed, golden-haired young man was already up…

…and heading for the fridge.

Alfred crossed the mine field of trash that was the living room with surprising grace, wearing a white tee-shirt and unsurprisingly patriotic boxers. He grabbed several boxes of cookies off the counter, opening the fridge with his other hand and grabbing the entire milk carton. Juggling everything, he kicked the fridge closed and turned around. Then froze.

I had been cleaning around the corner, white trash bag in one hand and a broom in the other. I was wearing a tank and khaki shorts, earbuds trailing from my ears into one of my pockets.

We stared at each other a long moment.

"What are you doing up so early?" He looked a bit frustrated.

"Dancing the Macarena."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He started crossing the living room again, when he hesitated. He looked over at me. "What did I do wrong?"

I looked up at him in surprise. "Nothing?"

"Dude, come on! We just threw, like, the party of the century! And all you're worried about is cleaning up!"

I looked down at the trash bag, and shrugged. "Cleaning helps me relax." I looked at him. "I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep."

"Oh." Alfred's frustration disappeared. He silently began walking back to his room.

"Alfred."

He looked back at me.

I smiled genuinely. "That was the coolest party ever."

He grinned. "Damn straight."

And that's how I met America.

 **xxxxx**

 **si - yes**

 **Diana here.**

 **Alright, guys, this is how it's going to work. This is the end of the Introduction, but there's a TON more to the overall story. So major and minor arcs will be posted as individual stories after this one. Major arcs will have the designation "Girls Meet World: (then the title here)." Minor arcs will just have titles.**

 **Since we ARE trying to write this along a set timeline, from now on, all stories will have the month and year next to the title. And in case you're wondering, this first story took place in September 2014. We're going to try to stay a year ahead of the events in this story so we can incorporate current events (and already know their outcomes!)**

 **Sorry about the info dump. Hang around, the story is just getting started!**

  
 **Hey guys. Dia here. Just a heads up, we're starting up an ask-blog on Tumblr:**

 **username: ask-diaandmarcy  
Blog name: Professional Nation-sitters**

 **Please! Ask us anything about what it's like living with Alfred. Or the other nations, for that matter. (We need some way to vent.)**


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